




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. # 

I 

.'«P HLfPE'S^t I?-,- $ 

# 


, S yfs:!; r 


UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, f 









•rr\ 



r • . I'. g 


. iCr. 


■ . r 


.v 



■ /' ' 


• /•)* 

• *• 


V v.A-, ’' - M,4 

v ' ' 






■y.' 




( ^ 




• \ »• 


V ^ 

1*^ T':»:', . ' •>' > 




ft ■" , - 
■.Sr ^ ■■- '■ 


• t 


,t.\h‘ ^ > 

f* , 


r 


. I 
* -t 


« 



:\i . < 


•t 


f 


%• 


V ' ''l . - ". ' V l' 

/■} -v . ^ . ^ ‘ 

i . ^ * » ^ • ^ *r 


t 


t » 


•' *. ^ 

« 


i. 

i* ^ f 




I 


i) 

■ V 


’ I 

' > 

r 




• » • 




■r'^' 




^ « 









r. 


t'.' 


> « 


r 




4 • r<^ 

»1' 


•. rf % ' 

. - ^ V ' ^ 

I - -< I 




> , . 

d 


Ir 

.1- » 




^ f ' 

- f 


h / 


>■ - A 

!r 




,v: 






1 • 


1, 


♦* 


.i. 





\.!i^ 


I. * 




4- 

» 



':i^-v, 


r^rtSTj.' 

-.’irP 


?i 


? 


^v:-^ ■ I 

• ' ■ » -fC • i • • 

I It'^e • ^ *•« 

•C ' .■ .Ql^rtw 






' * 




r 


P <-^ ;% 


' V ^ C j 

t • ^ V f 


*.<. 


_ / 





u.'V .■ 




'll*-* 




“ f • 




■•■•■■:- f ■^ ■' 
1 .' ■ »•. « 




•, 1 




I . • 

t • n 




» 




/. • *■ 

V ' 




« • 





r . id- 

^ y • ' l' ■' 

« • », I , * 

* %. 


•d 

* 

y 



.jM 

: 

-x 


y^ 


\ 


> M 


• I 


■■•;i‘V'/\ 

«• • I • ■*_ _ 



• ^ f 






^ v; 


/• '. 


I 


* \ 


r’-^U.!'- 


I i 








t ■ 


. t 


■ I 


I ’ V * ^ • 

. •^. > V'J 


* 



ty 




;»-? a; 


^ . 


l''ulv*'j' 



I •>* 


BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 

ANNA MAYLIE. 

I vol. i6mo. $1.50. 

ALLIE BIRD SERIES. 

3 vols. i6mo. $1.00 each. 

MRS. HURD’S NIECE. 

I vol. i6mo. $1.50. 

A WHITE HAND. 

A Novel. I vol. i6mo. ^1.50. 

THE COOKING CLUB OF TU-WHIT 
HOLLOW. 

1 vol. i6mo. $1.25. 

GOOD-FOR-NOTHING POLLY. 

I vol. i6rao. ^1.25. 

For sale by Booksellers. Sent, post-paid, on receipt of price by 
the Ptiblishers, 

D. LOTHROP & CO., Boston. 








r 





itr ■ * * ■* 

*’ '0** ’ * ' 


r' 


>r.. 

• • A 


k 






- 1 


•»**- 


S. 


-«• I, 


U*' 


S' ■ 





* »' 

. 


( 

( 

0 


^ I • 


• y 

•»> 


'' k 


4 • 
1 


-4 ./ 




;*e ‘* » 

??'■'■.■■■.■ 

''m' .>'.■ 




♦Cv’ c v,A'5<*tr 

* ‘ '.' *' • ■ ^ '"• ♦ ' ' I • ^ 


*,.». # 





' \ 




>r.- 




L ' • 


x'- 




• * 

• . > 


I • 


i . t 





- >«» -4 




.«> 


V 

4 


i. V 
. « 


A 

4? 


V 


• » 


> . . 


'. I « 




*?• 


•>» 

4^*' 


? ‘- .V 


» • 

^ « 

. ^ 

t . I 


m- ^ 


^ 4 
«. . 


>• 


:i 






^ V 


d 


.-K> 

' ^ 





? ^‘- 

>* V 


«r I. 






* . 

.• •• 


* J* 


V •> 


■ 'ca 




« c-' 

f 


:. % 


» > »• 
V- - 


• < 


r ^ ^ • : 


' , >: ' irj-« 

-r • - !v_ ^r/ 

. "x >>’■■;- l[:-ai 

M 


. i 


u 


I • « 


■-•f 


Nf^Vv. 




• • • . •■ - 


k 


.«• 
• t 


‘ ■ '» . > 


^ 0. 



-t ■. 

*: A • 

r '. 


■•-? . 

< 4 • . ' 




t . 


"•'■ 5' 
« 

y -c Vv 


4* .*■ 


5* 


J- ' ' ^ V . 




Vt ■ ./ 


• r 

•s' 


:h 


L 

^- ■ • " **'y’ ^ iji-wM 

. •• L "v- ^ ^ 




'tt 


* -•’“U 

•v.-V 


‘x 


•. 4 


‘•:i'K' 




.-.■M 


•» *>y‘ 


H 




I 

«• 


• / 


'.I *» 






• • V 


» • 

^ .> 

■ I 



4. A- • 


'i!?; 


w 

- e 
A. 


"-%V ' f*' **J*r*" 

V. • r • 


.V-. ' n'^ ^ 

. .,1^ 


I 




• . » 


;y 


A • . j . • », 


* \ • 




'A*. 


f* 

4 ^.* 


■ Tf V X ■': 


•V* ' 

‘A,:-. \ 


A 

•\ 


%• « 






• 4 

y-‘. 


i * . • 

« r* 

" . . ^ 


■ - 

, * ■■;/>-■ 

' rJ>" '■■ ’ ^IXi 

•;>^- . 



'■j. s>:V4 






Mamma s Dolls 









I, 






4 ^ • 


POEMS BY 

EXjXi-A. 

^ 4 

PICTURES BY 

C- 2sr o T h: ^ nyr 






FBANKLLN' ST., COKNEK OF HAWLEY. 



> 

i* 


D 



Cop5night by 

D. LOTHROP & CO. 

187 * 7 . 


CONTENTS. 

Page 

Mamma’s Dolls 7 

Baby’s Frights u 

Two LitTLE Boys 17 

Learning to Count 26 

Pinkie Winkie’s Mamma . . . -31 

Little Miss Rattle-Te-Bang . . . 34 

3 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

In the Haymow 39 

Kitty’s Color 42 

How Mamma Plays 45 

What Pinkie Blue Don’t Know . . 49 

A Question of Business . . . -52 

In a Bird House 55 

Papa’s Scare 57 

Harry Boy 60 

Vacation Days 64 

Little King John 68 

Poor Frank . . . . . . -71 

Mounting Guard 74 

The Street Sweeper 78 


CONTENTS. 


V 


Page 

Kittikin 82 

What If ? 84 

While Baby Sleeps 87 

Which Kitty to Keep 90 


A Flower . 


94 



SUGAR PLUMS. 


MAMMA’S DOLLS. 

MAMMA ! were your little doll-girls overbad 
Like mine ? so bad they made their little 
mamma sad ? 

Would your dolls twitch when you combed out their 
little curls ? — 

You said you once were small and had some dolly- 
girls. 

“ Tell me about your dolls, and when your name was 
Kit,— 

7 


8 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


Just little Kit, like me, you know. Mamma, is it 

As nice to be a woman ? Don’t you want to be 

Little again } Why didn’t you save your dolls for 
me ? 

“ Did you have lots of dolls } What kind did you 
like best — 

The little naked ones, or those you bought all dressed ? 

And did your mamma give you pieces of her dress ? 

Oh ! when she gave you silk, fken you was glad, I 
guess ! ” 

Saved you my dolls ! — should I tell you, my little Kit, 

About when /was little Kit, you’d laugh at it. 

That Kit lived miles and miles from dolly-stores ; and, 
worse. 

Her mamma had no dolly-money in her purse. 

So, Kit, what do you think that little Kit did do, — 

That poor, poor Kit ? Her dolls would not have done 
for you ! 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


9 


She rolled a piece of cloth, and sewed it in a roll, 
Eyes, nose, mouth, hair, — she marked them with a 
piece of coal ! 



The pipe-stem arms were cloth, the pipe-stem legs 
were cloth, 

Kit’s mamma took a stitch to bend the ankles both ; 
And Kit felt grand to get a piece of calico 
For dolly’s dress — grandmamma had no silk, you 
know. 


lO 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


“ And that was all she had ? mamma, I feel so bad ! ” 
Oh, no, sweet pet, a bigger doll she often had ; 

She pinned a pillow in her little blanket-shawl, — 
Don’t laugh ! she loved that soft fat dolly best of all ! 



“ Poor mamma ! if I’d lived then, I’d have give you 
some 

My dolls. I’m glad you staid and lived until I come. 
It’s made up now. Because you didn’t have dolls, 
you see. 


When you were little, now you have papa and me ! ” 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


II 


• BABY’S FRI^^HTS. 

{Wkat Mamma said to her little Mimi at Night). 

I. 

I ^ ABY’S had a dreadful day, — 

This poor little Baby Mimi, — 
Giants tried to run away 
With this little Baby Mimi ! 

First a spider, black and big. 

Stepped up close to Baby Mimi, — 
Wished to spin a silver wig. 

Try it on my Baby Mimi : 

When I looked she’d spun a net. 

In it sat my Baby Mimi, — 


12 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


She was carrying oif my pet, 
Just kidnapping Baby Mimi ! 


Mamma slapped her with her shoe — 
Didn't she slap her, Baby Mimi ! 
Mamma’ll always fight for you. 

Sweet and precious Baby Mimi ! 

II. 

But Baby, O Baby, 

What think the spider said to me ? 



SUGAR PLUMS. 


13 


“ I have three little spiders, and they’ve not a rag 
To make calls on your little girl Mimi, you see, 
So I thought I’d take her, in this soft silken bag. 
Just a minute to call on my spider girls three.” 
Thus the spider excused herself to me. 

III. 

Then there was a soft gray mouse 
Peeped at me and Baby Mimi — 

Both alone-y in the house. 

Mamma and her Baby Mimi. 

Mousie ran across the floor. 

Two bright eyes on Baby Mimi, 

Then she hid behind the door, 

All to catch my Baby Mimi. 

Mamma jumped and scatted her — 

Did7i ’/ she scat her. Baby Mimi ! 


14 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


Mamma hears them if they stir, 

To come near her Baby Mimi ! 

IV. 

But Baby, O Baby, 

What think the gray mouse said to me ? 

“ I have four little mice in the cellar below. 

And they durst n’t come up — they are ’fraid as can 
be — 

Want to borrow your baby a minute to show 
What it is that crip so — they often ask me : ” 
Thus the gray mouse excused herself to me. 

V. 

Cup and spoon down on the rug. 

Eating pretty. Baby Mimi, — 

Out there steps a shiny bug. 

Says she, “ Are you Baby Mimi ? 


SUGAR PLUMS. 15 

“ Heard you had some sweet pink toes, 

Come to kiss ’em, Baby Mimi ! ” — 

Hops upon the slipper-bows. 

Up and bites my Baby Mimi ! 

Mamma ’n’ Baby both did scream — 

Didn't we scream. Baby Mimi ! 

Bug hopped into Baby’s cream. 

Mamma run with Baby Mimi ! 


VI. 


But Baby, O Baby, 

What think the wet bug said to me ? 

“ I have four little bugs, and they’ve nothing to eat, 
They are all just as hungry as hungry can be, 

And your baby is tender and toothsome and sweet 
I just stole a wee bite that my buglets might see : ” 
Thus the wet bug excused herself to me. 


i6 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


VII. 

Such a dreadful, dreadful day, 

But it’s night now. Baby Mimi ! 

Here’s the white bed, where I’ll lay 
All tucked in, my Baby Mimi ! 

VIII. 

And now the spider is in bed with her babies ; 
^And, too, the gray mouse is in bed with her babies ; 
And the bug so wet is in bed with her babies ; 

And in just a minute I will be with mine 1 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


^7 



TWO LITTLE BOYS. 

I. 

^^OSEY sits a mother by her bright hearth-side, 
Rock- a-rock-a-rock her fair boy rocks a ride ; 
Light she counts the silver from a silken purse, 
Gayly shouts the laddie on the rocking-horse : 
Outside falls the snow. 

Outside the winds blow ; 

^ The mother sings low, 


i8 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


“ Oh, the walls of Home are builded bright and high 
Reaching, warm and crimson, to the very sky.” 

Rose-and-white the blankets on the many beds. 

Half the snowy pillows never pressed by heads ; 

Little coaties, some with fur, and some with gold. 
Hanging in the fragrant closets, fold on fold : 

Outside sweeps the snow. 

Outside the blasts blow ; 

The mother sings low, 

“ God is good, and Love enwraps his darlings warm — 
Nestlings we, safe sleeping on Love’s mighty arm.” 

All her happy heart it opens like a rose. 

Warm as summer is the home amid the snows ; 

In the rose the child is folded lovingly, — 

Little honey-fed and downy-coated bee : 

Outside whirls the snow. 

Outside the drifts grow ; 

The mother sings low, 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


19 


“ Life is good, and Home is bright, and Love is sweet, 
O God, spare us Love, Home, and Life, we entreat ! ” 

H. 

Past the stately windows, silken-curtained, goes 
Little ragged figure, shiv’ring through the snows. 
Gravely looking up his bedroom for the night. 
Everywhere are sheets and pillows piled so white. 

But not this white spot, 

Nor yet this white cot — 

The beggar is not 

Ready yet to choose one from the many streets, 
Though the high white snow-loom weaves him freshest 
sheets. 

Wild and white and thick the midnight on the town ! 
Slowly round and round, and on, and up and down. 
Trying marble step, and'trying alley dim, — 

Never does a blessed doorway ope to him. 


20 


SUGAR PLUMS, 


Till ’tis a sweet lot 
To seek this white cot; 
The beggar need not 



Knock at anybody’s frowning door for this, 

Free to him this great, white, solemn bed-room is. 

Lonesome for the little laddie it must be, 

And no tender mother brings her lamp to see, 

Yet the sweetest, strangest, deepest of all rest, 
Settles like a dream upon the beggar’s breast. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


21 


There in that wild spot, 

Within his white cot, 

The beggar forgot, 

While the high winds piled his bed-clothes, fold on 
fold, 

Evermore, that he had hungered or been cold. 


III. 

Pale and light he soared up to the heavens fair, 
While the snow lay yet upon his cold, wet hair ; 
And the angels leaning on the high, bright wall. 
Gravely looked they down upon the spirit small. 
In the heavenly light. 

Spreading golden-white. 

They beheld his flight. 


And said they, “ Oh, little soul, why have you come ? 
Little straying soul, you will be missed at home ! ” 


22 


SUGAR PLUMS 


‘‘ Didn’t have no home,” said he, “ and it was cold ; ” 
And he warmed his fingers in the air of gold. 

“ Would no happy people open to you theirs ? 

Sure we heard a grateful mother singing prayers 



In the red firelight, 

With her child so bright, — 

Surely the sad plight 

Of a wandering, homeless, starving little boy 
Would have touched her in her happy, grateful joy ! ” 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


23 


“ No,” said he, “they didn’t never let me in ! ” 

“ On their heads,” the angels said, “ be all the sin 
On their heads, who, praising God, will not divide 
With his helpless Poor their happy fireside! ” ^ 

In the heavenly light 
Their large eyes grew bright 
With tears at the plight 
Of this little soul the earth did so condemn. 

And they reached and took him into heaven with 
them I 

IV. 

In the rose-soft blankets mother’s darling lay. 

Warm and soft the night, and sweeter than the day; 
But his sleep was touched with tossing and annoy — 
In his dream he saw the piteous beggar-boy : 

Clear the gold-light gleam 
Shone in on his dream, 

And strange it did seem 


24 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


That the little shivering spirit there should stand, 
Pleading to the angels with his icy hand. 

And he heard the angry angels, though he slept, 
Saying ’twas his “ Little Brother ” that they wept ; 
And his death should be upon the happy heads 
Of the people with the fires and downy beds. 



Oh, in the sharp gleam 
That shone on his dream. 
It surely did seem 


That he must and that he would share all he had 
With that little shivering spirit, and be glad ! 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


25 


And he called up to the angels in the sky, 

And the angels answered to him sweet and high. 

“ Tell me,” cried he, “ tell me and my mother — 
Tell us how wedl know a Little Brother ? ” 

Then a grand, full gleam 
Of glory did seem 
To burst on his dream. 

As the angels answered back, “ Remember this / 
Who has less than you, a Little Brother is ! ” 


26 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


LEARNING TO COUNT. 

T~^ ABY now is three years old, 

Time some wise things should be told ; 
Lips that lisp, and coo, and sing, 

Sure can say some useful thing. 



Come and learn arithmetic — 
Baby’s little head is quick ; 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


27 


Baby touch her pearly nose — 

“ One ! ” that’s the way it goes. 

Rosy chin — that makes “Two.” 

“ Un, Two ! ” hear her coo ! 
Blue eye here, blue eye there, 

Now how many, baby fair .? 



Nose was “ One,” chin was “Two,” — 
“"Nose is Un, tm is Two.” 

And the two blue eyes, “Three,” “Four,” 
An’ a two boo eyes^ Fee, Fo’.” 

Sweet as honey in the hive. 

Little upper lip counts “ Five.” 


28 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


Under lip, with pouting tricks, 
Say it, darling, “ Five,” Six.’ 

“ ' IttU honey ficks — 

Baby count — Five, Six.” 



Bless her heart, how plain she speaks 
Now we’ll add the the cherry cheeks ; 
This cheek, sweetest ever given 
To a baby, stands for “ Seven.” 

That cheek, sweeter than its mate, 
Mamma kisses it for “ Eight.” 

“ Seben ” — see the baby wait — 

’e cheek oo ties is Eight ! ” 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


29 


This ear, where the curlies twine 
Round in silky rings, makes “ Nine ; ” 
That ear — papa ’ll pinch it when 
Home he comes — that counts “Ten, ” 



ea' Nine, dat ed Ten ! ” 

That’s it ! Now we’ll count again : 

Nose is “ One ; ” chin is “ Two ; ” 

“ Three ” and “ Four,” eyes of blue ; 
Lips with smiles, pouts and tricks, 
(Count with me) “ Five ” and “ Six ; ” 


30 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


“ Seven.” “ Eight,” these red cheeks ; 
Ev’ry time that mamma speaks, 

“Nine ” and “Ten,” each pink ear 
Starts up eagerly to hear. 

“ Nose is Un, fin is Two ; 

Fee, Fo’, eyes is boo ; 

Honey t^ieks, 

Five, Six ; 

Seben, Eight, ^iss V’ cheeks ; 

Nine, Ten, hears oo speaks 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


31 


PINKIE-WINKIE’S MAMMA. 

T HEARS that doll up, over-head — 

I never can get any nap ! 

I guess I shall get out of bed, 

And ’haps I’ll give that doll a slap ! 

Bad doll ! and here you is all dressed ! 

I knows you hasn’t said your prayers ! 
You got up and put on your best. 

And hurried, ’fas you could, down-stairs. 

I knows, you minx, just where you thought 
You’d go. Posy ! don’t shake your curls ! 
What did I say I’d do ’f I caught 
You with those naughty alley-girls } 


32 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


How dare you take my parasol, 
Bad doll, to go a-walking in ? 



You thinks, because you is a doll. 
Nobody ’d hurt your little skin. 

O Pinkie winkie-posy-bell ! 

You is so pretty in your little crib. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


33 




How can I whip — but should I tell, 
My darling daughter-doll a fib t 

My Pinkie didn’t as she should — 

Slap ! slap ! one, two, three ! 

I whips you for your little good ; 
That’s what my mamma says to me / 


34 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


LITTLE MISS RATTLE-TE-BANG. 

TT was ages ago, so the rhyme-makers sang, 

That a little girl lived they called Rattle-te-Bang ; 
They called her by that, since she never could stir 
Without causing a slam, or a whirl, or a whirr. 

There’s a hammering sound to her heels and her toes, 
Click-clickety-clack-clacking wherever she goes, — 

Oh, I said, I believe, she lived long time ago. 

For our mild modern girls don’t ever walk so. 

Her papa and her mamma were at their wits’ end. 
Every day of their lives some new mischief to mend ; 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


35 


For none could be certain, not until she got through, 

When she rose from her chair, what Miss Rattle 
might do. 

Her mamma would much rather have patched twenty 
boys ; 

And her papa was perfectly wild with the noise ; 

So one morn, when the cars came a-puffing their way, 

Wh}^, they both stepped on board, and went steaming 
away. 

’Twas that year when the dish ran away with the 
spoon, 

And the wonderful cow jumped over the moon, — •. 

In no other, I’m sure, could a little girl do 

What Miss Rattle-ty did in an hour or two. 

In a trice all the doors of the mansion went slam ! 

Ev’ry window flew up with a shove and a jam ! 

And then all of them fell, with the dreadfullest crash, 

And the house, it got aired, in the general smash. 


36 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


Soon the cups and the spoons struck up jingle-and~ 
ring. 

And the plates and the platters broke out tingle-a-ting. 
While the stove and the shovel, the poker and tongs, 
Undertook to beat time unto both of the songs. 



All the tables were seized with a cramp and a cough ! 
All the easy-chairs rolled till their castors came off ! 
All the cushions were shook into pitiful plights ! 

All the pussy-cats sneezed at such putting-to-rights. 

For Miss Rattle rushed round with a duster and 
broom. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


37 


And she scatted them all^ right and left, through the 
room, 

While the rugs sailed high, and the curtains sailed 
low. 

And a very high wind blew above and below. 

And wherever she turned there remained a path. 

As a lion had passed through the house in his 
wrath, — 

But whether a lion, or a wandering bear. 

It is certain some tragedy happened right there. 

When her folks got rested and returned to the house. 

Both the house and the garden were still as a 
mouse ; 

And they found but some fingers shut tight in the 
door. 

Nothing else, save a flounce lying torn on the floor. 

And a little soft ringlet snarled fast on a nail. 

At these remnants of Rattle they both gave a wail, 


38 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


It was hard for Miss Rattle-ty’s parents, no doubt, 
But oh ! isn’t it good that the race has died out? 

For what if little girls now should walk with a bounce ! 
And how bad it would be if they sat with a jounce ! 
And our heads had to ache with the noise and the 
clang 

That was made in the days of Miss Rattle-te-Bang ! 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


39 


IN THE HAYMOW. 

TTERE’S my girlie hid away 
All aloney in the hay ! 

What big thoughts are troubling you, 
Little Susan, Susie, Sue? 

O, I see the thoughtful eye — 

Black eye, I know what you spy ! 
And I see the listening ear — 

Pink ear, I know what you hear ! 

Stem of hay ’twixt rosy lip — 

Sweet lip, I know what you sip ! 

I was little once like you. 

Little Susan, Susie, Sue. 


40 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


She hears in the crackly hay 
All the things that used to play, 
Play and skip and hop and pass 
In the ripe thick summer grass : 



Crickets, ants, and lady-bugs, — 
Every tiny thing that snugs 
Low down to keep dry and warm 
When it hears the thunder-storm. 

Hay is full of chirps and whirrs 
Wingy stirs, and mur-mur-murs. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


41 


Spidery runs, wee toad hops, 

Robin’s funny starts and stops. 

She sees in the dry brown hay, 

All the living green of May ; 

This stalk was a waving blade ; 

This, a silken ribbon played ; 

This a daisy was ; and this 
Clover that the bees did kiss ; 

This a plume ; that a feather — 

Gay they tossed in sunny weather. 

Green and crimson, pink and white ! 

Light, and fragrance, and delight ! 

O, the honey ! O, the dew ! 

.Meadow, what a change for you ! 

This the tale the hay has told : 

Green turns brown and youth grows old, — 
’Tis too bad to sadden you. 

Little Susan, Susie, Sue ! 


42 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


KITTY’S COLOR. 

T T 7 HAT color do I like the very best ? 

^ ^ If I take one, must I leave out the rest ? 

How can a little girl like me go choose 
Just one, and all the lovely others lose ? 

You know that in the spring I think I will 
Have frocks the color of the daffodil ; 

I’d have my frocks still yellow, every fold, 

While beams the dandelion’s starry gold ; 

Maybe with buttercups I should dress yellow yet. 
If it were not for darling violet ; 

But with the earliest violet I see 
I wish my frocks and ribbons blue to be. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


43 


Oh ! dainty, dainty blue ! I love the blue ! 

I only give up blue, rich rose, for you ! 

But oh ! the rose ! the red ! the blush ! the pink ! 
Oh ! Mamma dear, does any-\iO^^ think 

Of other flowers when the rose they see 1 
Then, Mamma, who could censure little me 

Because for rose I sometimes am untrue 
To all the gold and even violet-blue ? 

But, should all flower-colors really be 
In one gay glory set apart for me, 

I shouldn’t be content; Oh ! no ; for I 
Should look up at the glowing sunset sky, 

And I should be so envious, because 
Those floating clouds of lovely, rosy gauze. 

And all the webs of purple, gold and pearl. 
Forbidden were to your poor flower-girl. 


44 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


And if I had the gorgeous colors of the sky, 
There are some other tints for which I’d sigh. 

For I should want the gray, and soft, pale green. 
The diamondr luster and the rainbow sheen 

That make the water beautiful to see 
What time the sun shines on it wide and free. 

Mamma, you shall not ask your girl to choose. 
There’s not one tint that I could bear to lose. 

I mean to love and wear them ev’ry one. 

I’m Nature’s girl, no Quaker, nor a nun. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


45 


HOW MAMMA PLAYS. 

TUST the sweetest thing that the children do 
Is to play with mamma a-playing too ; 

And “ Baby is Lost ” they think is the best, 
For mamma plays that with a merry zest. 

“ My baby lost ! ” Up and down mamma goes 
A-peering about and following her nose ; 

Inside the papers, and under the books 
And all in between the covers she looks, ^ 

“ Baby ! baby ! ’’ calling ; 

But though in her way is papa’s tall hat 
She never once thinks to look under that. 


46 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


She listens, she stops. She hears the wee laugh, 
And around she flies the faster by half. 

“Why, where can he be ? ” and she opens the clock, 
She tumbles her baskets, she shakes papa’s sock. 



“ Baby ! baby 1 ” calling ; 

While the children all smile at papa’s tall hat. 
Though none of them go and look under that. 

A sweet coo calls. Mamma darts everywhere. 
She feels in her pocket to see if he’s there. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


47 


In every vase on the mantel shelf 
She searches sharp for the little elf, 

“ Baby ! baby ! ” calling ; 

Another coo comes from papa’s tall hat, 

Yet none of them stir an inch toward that. 

Somewhere he certainly must be, she knows. 

So up to the china cupboard she goes ; 

\ 

The covers she lifts from the sugar bowls, 

The sweet, white lumps she rattles and rolls, 

“ Baby ! baby ! ” calling ; 

But though there’s a stir near papa’s tall hat. 

They will not so much as look toward that. 

She moves the dishes, but baby is not 
In the cream-pitcher nor in the teapot; 

And she wrings her hands and stamps on the floor. 
She shakes the rugs and she opens the door. 


“ Baby ! baby ! ” calling ; 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


They stand with their backs to papa’s tall hat, 
Though the sweetest of murmurs comes from that. 

The children join in the funny distress, 

Till mamma, all sudden, with sweet caress 
Makes a pounce right down on the tall, black hat. 
And brings out baby from under that, 

“ Baby ! baby ! ” calling • 

And this is the end of the little play 
The children would like to play every day. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


49 


WHAT PINKIE-BLUE DON’T KNOW. 

"Ty jTY Pinkie-Blue is as fair as a rose, 

But as yet of this not a lisp she knows, 
And I wouldn’t have her know ; 

If she knew she might prink and put on airs 
And go thinking about the clothes she wears — 
So I wouldn’t have her know. 

Pinkie-Blue wears silk, but, then, she don’t know 
That it’s any better than calico. 

And I wouldn’t have her know ; 

For, when she begins to turn up her nose. 

No longer she’ll be as sweet as a rose — 

So I wouldn’t have her know. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


SO 

But now, with the washerwoman’s baby all day 
Pinkie-Blue will merrily, sweetly play. 

And I wouldn’t have her know 



Any one could think the play wasn’t right. 

Or the black skin not as good as the white — 
No, I wouldn’t have her know. 

She don’t know that money is made to keep. 
But she thinks it’s to give to those who weep, 
And I wouldn’t have her know ; 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


51 


And she knows not one of the reasons why 
That some should be glad and that some should 
sigh — 

And I wouldn’t have her know. 

A smile is a smile with my Pinkie-Blue, 

She believes that smiles are as true as true, 

And I wouldn’t have her know 
That a smile may tell the naughtiest lies 
And sweet looks say what the heart denies — 

No, I wouldn’t have her know. 

O, yes, there is much Pinkie-Blue don’t know, 

But I willingly let the knowledge go. 

For I wouldn’t have her know ; 

Since of what I’ve learned I would give the whole 
For the wisdom born in her white, sweet soul — 

No, I wouldn’t have her know. 


52 


SUGAR PLUMS. 



A QUESTION OF BUSINESS. 

“ Ain’t I going to divide ? ” 

Well, that’s what I call cool, you Jack! 
Lying at home here on your back, — 

But then, if you think that it pays 
To sleep these grand old Saturdays, 

Sleep 1 — but, mind, I don’t divide I 

“ But nutting is only fun ? ” 

Of course that’s easy ’nough to say ; 

The woods are jolly, anyway, 

And ’tisn’t bad to climb the trees 
And shake such plumpers down as these — 
O, it really is prime fun. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


53 



“I’ll sell you someI ” 


Yes, I own nutting is fun, — 

You hunt ’round in such golden leaves, 

The squirrels scold and call you “ Thieves ! ” 
And ’tis the stillest place to lie. 


54 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


And look up, far up, in the sky, — 

No objections to the fun. 

But — well I tell you, you Jack, 
There’s something else, — you tote that bag 
Home as I did, and feel it sag, — 

Say, Jack, see here. I’ll sell you some, 

If you want nuts ’thout work — yes, come, 
That’s the way to get ’em. Jack ! 

“ O ! you don’t buy nuts that grow 
In father’s woods — they’re half yours now? ” 
Just so. Only, I don’t see how 
You’ll get your half unless you go 
For ’em yourself; /shan’t, I know. 

Sir, your half is where they grow ! 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


55 


IN A BIRD-HOUSE. 

I "'HE little bird-wife to the window came, 

And forth she looked with an anxious eye, 
Where a cold and an angry sunrise flame * 
Stormily burned in the eastern sky ; 

“ Will it be a fair day, do you think } ” she said, 

“ I am always afraid when the sky is red.” 

She’d risen early, the little bird-wife. 

And let Mr. Bird lie snug in bed ; 

She had built the fire, she had broiled the worms, 
And by starlight cold they had breakfasted. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


56 

They had planned this day on a journey to go, 
Even birds rise betimes for journeys, you know. 

They were going to see their daughter dear, 

A flight of a dozen miles or so. 

And of course it would never do to start 
If the weather looked at all like snow. 

Mr. Bird, he went out, and he looked each way, 
He stretched, and he said, “ No visits to-day.” 

And in he went, and sat down by the fire ; 

The snow fell deep, and he slept and slept ; 
The little bird-wife she tidied the house. 

But whatever she did she wept and wept ; 

For the little bird-grandmother wished to see 
The daughter and babies in the distant tree. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


57 


PAPA’S SCARE. 

' I '^HAT’S a queer umbrella over. 

There across the street, — 
Yes, bless me ! that umbrella’s 
Got three pairs of feet ! 

It goes clatter, clatter, clatter, 

And it chatters, too, — 

I’m afraid of live umbrellas ! 

What’d I better do ? 

Mercy sakes ! that strange umbrella 
It is chasing me ! 


S8 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


Hear it call, and laugh, and giggle. 
In uncanny glee ! 



It must be a witch-umbrella, — 

How it bobs about ! 

How it leaps and springs and hurries, — 
Hark, what did it shout ? 






SUGAR PLUMS. 


59 


Wait I Wait! Papa! Papa!"'^ 
This beats all the jokes, — 

Here IVe been a-running from my 
Own three little folks ! 

Well, how should a papa know his 
Children by their feet, — 

“ But I did know ! I was funning ! ” 
Possibly, my sweet. 


6o 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


“HARRY BOY.” 

Well, Harry boy, 

You are a sight, perched up pn cook’s dish-pan ! 
All smirch and smutch. 

With not one little finger fit to touch. 
Drumming with fork and spoon hard as you can. 

You noisy boy ! 

Who would believe, — indeed, who could believe. 
To look at you. 

You once wore baby white and baby blue 
With dainty ribbon bows to tie your sleeve 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


6i 


O, Harry boy, 


You little giant in your button boots, 



Full three-feet-three. 

Your sturdy knees bared for the world to see, — 


Poor little knees criss-crossed with ancient cuts. 


62 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


Such sorry knees, 

So scraped, so scratched, so goldenbrown with tan 
Your brown fists match 

Them piteous well, with bruise and cut and scratch. 
You sturdy, lawless, sunburnt, little man ! 

My great, big boy, 

I pinch your apple-cheeks, so hard and red, 

And wonder how 

You came by all this rich brown hair that now 
Thatches, so curly-thick, your restless head ; 

For, Harry boy. 

This hair was gold, a pale and tender gold. 

And soft as down ; 

The daintiest, tiniest baby in the town 
You were, — yes, you^ you boy so big and bold. 

The best one too. 

You were, so good, — I’d wrap you, eyes and nose. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


63 


And you, yes, you^ 

Would sleep such naps, and then wake with a coo. 
All smiles, if I but touched your rosy toes ; — 

Yes you^ great boy. 

That likes to roll up, mornings, in the sheets. 

And then pitch out. 

Head-first, upon the floor, with such a shout 

That all the people hear you in the streets. 

\ 

Poor, dirty boy, — 

“ O, but the dirt will all wash off from clothes ? ” 
Well, mamma prays. 

No matter how you grow, all nights, all days. 

Than skin and clothes sin’s soil no deeper goes ! 

“ What do I mean ? ” 

O, nothing. “ But I do ? ” Well, then, keen eyes. 
Mamma may mean 

That you should come up-stairs and wash you clean, 
(The rest — when time has made you sadly-wise !) 


64 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


VACATION DAYS. 

I 7 ACH year, early in the summer, 
While yet ’tis blue, blue June, 
Suddenly the wild birds waken. 

And with a longing tune 
Go song-singing of the children 
That are shut from the sun : 

“They are coming,” the singers carol, 
“ For the school-days are done ! ” 

And they sing the song of cherries 
Along the garden wall ; 

And they sing the song of berries 
That grow in thickets tall ; 







66 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


And they sing the song of rambles, 
Long rambles in the sun : 

“They are coming,” the singers carol, 

“ For the school-days are done ! ” 

And they sing the song of hammocks. 
Hung in the deep pine trees, 

Where the children brown and brighten 
With swaying in the breeze. — 

Happy, happy little children 
Just let out in the sun ! 

“ They are coming,” the singers carol, 

“ For the school-days are done ! ” 

Give the world up to the children, 

Yes, near and far and wide ! 

Let the willing welcomes waken 
Up all the country side ! 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


67 


Meet them, bird, and bee, and blossom. 
And meet them, breeze and sun, — 
Carol ! carol ! O, carol ! carol ! 

That the school-days are done. 


68 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


LITTLE KING JOHN. 

T ITTLE KING JOHN sits up in a tree, 
A tip-top throne has little King John j 
But no fair queen by his sidfe has he, 

For how, pray tell, could a queen hold on ? 

Little King John, O, where is your crown? 

Or, little King John, where is your hat? 
You’ve burnt your nose to a coffee-brown 
And what’ll your mother say to that ? 

But little King John, he hugs his throne ; 

The sea, the sun, the wind is sweet, 


SUGAR PLUMS 


69 


And up in the clouds, high and alone, 
The tree ’s a wonderful wishing-seat. 



Little King John is sailing his ships — 
In the Open Polar Sea, perhaps ; 

At least, his grand discovery-trips 
Spoil all the old Geography-maps. 

Little King John is leading his men. 

On a gallant horse he sweeps the field. 


70 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


The bands play up — and he cheers — and then 
The guns ! the charge ! the enemy yield ! 

Little King John — he is grand and tall, 

He looks just as the President should, 

Like Washington — yes, a man, of all. 

Would wish to look like him if he could. 

Little King John, — he is scrambling down. 

He barks his knees on the wishing-tree, — 

At the tea-bell’s sound his dreams have flown. 
And naught but a hungry boy is he. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


71 


POOR FRANK. 

all the boys at school in Birds’-nest Lane, 
Our Frankie has the neatest, spryest foot, — 
What is the matter, think you, with his brain 
That he falls drowsy when at lessons put ? 

What is it — is it — ails his brain? — 

That something dreadful does is plain. 

Out doors his black eyes snap like wintry stars ; 

There is no boy like him to catch a ball ; 

A hand-spring, and he leaps the five-rail bars ; 

He is the Indian-runner of them all. 


72 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


What is it ails our Frankie’s brain ? 

I ask, and ask myself again. 

The silver brooks of all the country-side, 

The stones and weeds and bugs of every hill, 
This queer boy, knows so well he is our pride — 
What’s in a book to weave a spell so ill. 

To dull his eyes, and dull his brain ? — 

It’s happened so time and again. 

The moment he hangs up that Highland cap 
Our Frankie is a shrewdie lad no more, — 

He cannot fish the rivers on a map. 

Of course he knows that two and two make four ; 
He yawns and nods o’er all that’s said — 

They call our Frank “ Sir Sleepy Head.” 

He says the print is full of small black elves. 

That dance and do naught else before his eyes, — 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


73 


He wants to see the Facts and Folks themselves, 
Or else he never shall be very wise. 

Is aught the matter with his brain, 

That he should reason in this strain ? 


74 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


/ 


MOUNTING GUARD. 

This is Dotty, rosy, sweet, 
Napping in the sofa-seat. 

These two ladies, pretty, wee. 
Dotty’s dolly-daughters be. 

And that’s Carlo, mounting guard. 
Winkless watching, harking hard. 

He thinks bow-wow^ at that fly 
Lighting down on Dotty’s eye. 

Bow-wow^ too, at little Sam 
Letting that front gate go slam / 


SUGAR PLUMS 


75 


He lifts up a warning paw 
As puss, pushing with her claw 



At the lightly-swinging door, 
Patters in across the floor. 


Looks a bite toward papa 
For his sudden ha-ha-ha / 


76 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


Glares at the piano keys, 

Snaps at mamma for her sneeze, 

Eyes that baby in her lap 
Just awakened from his nap — 

Coo-a-coo and goo-a-goo, 

Goo-a-goo and coo-a-coo — 

All so loud in mamma’s lap. 

Never minding Dotty’s nap. 

’Cause it’s baby no one cares, 

And poor Carlo quite despairs. 

How she jingles spoon and cup — 
Bite her ! eat her ! chew her up ! 


Carlo’s wild ! 

That dreadful child ! 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


77 


No use no how, — 
Bow-wow^ bow-wow y — 


Carlo’s self wakes Dotty up, 
Not the baby with her cup. 


78 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


THE STREET-SWEEPER. 

I j^ ACH day on the street I see this broom, 

It big enough is to sweep each room 
In the Pope’s great palace o’er the s^a, — 

And thousands of rooms ’tis said there be. 

The boy that sweeps with the giant broom, 

O, little he is to brush one room. 

Yet all day works on the roaring street 
In among the horses’ mighty feet. 

And brave he tugs with his baby-strength 
Clean to keep the crossing’s breadth and length — 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


79 


His, in the world’s work, shower of shine, 
A path to clear for the Fair and Fine. 


Such a Ihtle boy, sweet as can be 
If but a mother had he to see 

That the curls were curled, the hands washed white. 
And the blue eyes kissed at morn and night. 

For the daintiest boy would look amiss 
Should he go without the mother-kiss — ■ 

’Twould show in the mouth, the cheek, the chin, — 
For the mother-kisses all strike in. 

And a sweet light beams out on the face, 

And a dimple buds in ev’ry place 

That is kissed so deep with the mother-lips, 

And he tender is to the finger-tips. , 


8o 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


But the poor broom-boy has dimples none, 
He don’t have kisses, no, not one. 

There can’t be even a hand to sew. 

For ragged he is from top to toe : 


Here is an elbow, there a knee. 

The ten little toes can counted be. 

The coat is buttoned up with a pin. 
The poor wee pockets have nothing in, 

A top nor a marble, ball, nor knife. 

Oh, pity it is — still in his life 

This baby has something else to do. — 

Must earn his- dinner and cook it too. 


My heart breaks over you, baby-man. 

I’ll wish you the best that wish I can — 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


8l 


May the brave heart sicken not, nor die, 
That looks out now from the sweet, blue eye. 


My heart breaks over you, baby-man. 

Yet I’ll learn your wisdom, if I can — 

To work in my place through shower or shine, 
And grumble not at the Fair and Fine. 


82 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


KITTI-KIN. 

~T^ ITTI-KIN leans in the window-sill, 

^ My little dear girl Kitti-kin ; 

The snow-flakes fall, white, thick and still. 
The snow brings dreams to Kitti-kin ; 

Her large, bright blue eye, never it winks, — 
You like to know what Kitti-kin thinks ? 
What are you thinking, Kitti-kin ? 

The snow-flakes float, down, up, and by. 

The storm enchants my Kitti-kin ; 
Wonderful things are kept in the sky, — 

The pearly rain, sweet Kitti-kin, 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


83 


The moon, the clouds of purple and rose, 

The stars, the sun and these beautiful snows, — 
Are these your thoughts, my Kitti-kin ? 



Ah, I know girls by heart ; I know 
The thoughts of dreaming Kitti-kin ; 


The lovely, floating fleecy snow 

Means sleds and slides for Kitti-kin ; 

The beautiful snow makes many ways 
For little girls’ plans and pleasures and plays, — 
These are the thoughts of Kitti-kin. 


84 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


WHAT IF? 

'"T^HREE little men on the door-steps sat, 

And all three rosily sweet and fat. 

From Babyland late comers were they, 

Three dear little souls that should have been gay. 

But there on the green lay white snow-flakes — 
April weather was making mistakes. 

“ O, you don’t suppose,” says Dicky Dear, 

“That, maybe, there won’t be flowers this year? ” 

“ O, nobody knows,” says Tommy Jinks, 

“ Nobody knows what the weather thinks.” 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


85 


“ If nobody knows,’’ cried Hop-o’-my-Thumb, 
“ If nobody knows what’s going to come, 


“ The rose may dress brown instead of in red, 
But, sir, if she does, — snip^ goes her head ! ” 



And then did the three, and all in a jiff, 
Sobbing begin, “ What if ? What if ? 

“ What if on trees the violets should grow. 
Instead of their hiding grassy low ? 


86 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


“ What if there’s nothing delicious to eat ? 

O, what if the strawberries shouldn’t be sweet ? 

“ And what if the cherries all green should stay ? 
And what if the apples should do the same way ? 

“ And it be so cold that we cannot play, 

And have in^the house all summer to stay ? 

“ And the fishes dear, with their silver gleams. 
They should all freeze up in the silver streams ? ” 

Tommy Jinks said “ O ! ” and Dicky said O ! ” 
And Hop-o’-my-Thumb, he, too, said so. 

“ 0-o-oh ! oh-oh ! O o-oh ! oh ! oh ! ” 

This is how those three little men said “ O ! ” 

They’d have wept till now, but the sun came out. 
And up they jumped, and were off with a shout. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


87 


WHILE BABY SLEEPS. 

JT’S baking-day, bye-low-bahy-bye^ 

O, why don’t the baby shut her eye ? 

Bye-low-baby-bye^ on baking-day 
The prettiest baby is in the way. 

Bye-low-baby-bye — with measured tread 
They carry the baby to her bed. 

Softly close the door ; and now the house 
Starts up at once as still as a mouse, 

As still, O, yes, and as nimble too. 

For this is the time to do and do ! 


88 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


The very things that baby’d think fun 
Are brought out now and hurriedly done, — 

The beautiful beans she’d like to pour 
In musical streams all o’er the floor, 

The apples, too, with the parings red — 
That wind so nice round the baby’s head. 

And the pan of flour as soft as snow. 

Pretty white stuff for baby to blow — 

O, pies in rows, and cookies in heaps, 

And all to be made while baby sleeps ! 

For Baby has come to that charming time 
When she can creep and clamber and climb. 

She knows ’bout sugar and spice and plums. 
You take her away and back she comes, 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


89 


Creeping so fast, and laughing in glee, 

And pulls herself up by mamma’s knee. 

And whatever mamma goes to find 
The baby comes creeping close behind j 

In the cellar door she coos “ da-da, 

Peeps down through the dark at dear mamma. 

She tips the water pail on the floor, 

Burns both wee hands on the oven door, 

And mamma spills the molasses cup 
In running to pick her baby up ; — 

So bye-low-baby-bye ; for on baking-day 
The prettiest baby is in the way. 


90 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


WHICH KITTY TO KEEP. 


ITTENS five had Bell and Bess, 
A basketful of happiness, 



A basketful of shiny furs. 

And little tails, and paws, and purrs. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


91 


The merry lives had just begun, 

A little week of pretty fun, 

And then a voice ! ’twas mamma’s voice : 

“ Come, children, you must make your choice ! ” 

The little girls knew what that meant ! 

The Mother Kitty turned so faint ! 

They went as sad as sad could be. 

And by the basket sat the three. 

Down stooped the little tender Bess, 

And took one up, with a caress — 

“ I would keep that ! ” 

Said Mother Cat. 

But sweet Bell sighed ; so then they chose 
Again, — one like a soft white rose, — 

“ O, do keep that ! ” 


Said Mother Cat. 


92 


SUGAR PLUMS. 



But, see, this purrs like anything. 
It’s sweet to hear a kitty sing ! ” 

“ You must keep that ! ” 
Said Mother Cat. 


“ And this is just as white as milk, 
So warm, and shiny-soft as silk ! ” 

“ Yes, do keep that ! ” 
Said Mother Cat. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


93 


So Bess held up her apron, and 
Bell laid four in with careful hand, — 
“ That! that! that ! that !'' 
Said Mother Cat. 

Then up she caught the other one, 
The three ran fast as they could run ; 
And in the barn they hid away 
The whole five kitties in the hay. 


94 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


1 FLOWER. 

T AM thankful when winter is really done, 

And I empty the children all out in the sun ; 

For, though pinks of perfection other women have 
got, 

I know mine are a dreadfully rollicking lot. 

They are handsome as Raphael’s own cherubs to 
see. 

Only Raphael has quite the advantage of me — 

For so few of /its cherubs have hands, or have feet, 
That the sky where they fly is refreshingly neat. 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


95 


And if mine were but beautiful heads with wings, 

I could love them the same, and they wouldn’t turn 
things 

Upside down ; they couldn’t ; then a woman might 
show 

How she’d like to keep house if permitted, you know. 

Yesler-morning I said, as I sent them to play, 

Well perhaps they’ll be poets and artists some day; 

But I own that, at present, destruction and noise 

Are the outermost traits of my girls and my boys. 

A muddy mosaic of their tracks on the floor, 

Their jack-knives to pick up where they whittled the 
door. 

Their “art-studies ” to wash from the clean window- 
pane. 

And the picture-papers all to fold up again. 


96 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


Before noon it was still, and I stole out to see 

Where my sturdy young gipseys marauding might 
be ; 

On the old orchard wall ’neath the apple-tree bough, 

They were clinging like kittens, the five in a row. 

O, you should have seen them ! for each wild little 
elf 

Looked seraphic enough e’en for Raphael himself ; 

All a-hush they were gazing, rapt, over the wall 

At the first dandelion — O, yes, that was all. 

“That’s a holy flower,” lisped Miss Fanny, the 
dear, 

(I crept close for, of course, I was longing to hear), 

“To an angel it turns — I’ve seen it — when it dies. 

Has a hundred white wings, and away then it 
flies ! ” 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


97 


Heavenly pensive, my five, they gazed at it once 
more ; 

I stole silently back through the work-a-day-door ; 
And the sweet little priests at the shrine of the 
flower. 

Wore their poet-look still at the dinner-bell hour. 


98 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


PUDDING AND MILK. 

A DINNER for two! 

It’s ready at last ! 
Begun in the spring, 

Now summer is past. 

# 

This dinner for two — 

O, to just think how 
The farmer-men worked 
With horses and plow, 

And the planting-boys, 

With their nimble hoes, 
A-dropping the corn 

In the long, straight rows, ■ 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


99 


In April and May, 

At night, and at morn. 

In June and July, 

They worked in the corn ! 

(O, the tall green corn. 

All tassel and toss ! 

O, the broad-leaved corn 
With its tangles of floss ! ) 

Then one August day 
The green forests fell ; 

And the men to husk. 

And the men to shell, 

Were ready to work. 

And worked with a will. 

And got the corn ready 
To carry to mill — 


lOO 


SUGAR PLUMS. 


O, the plow and hoe, 

The sickle and wheel, — 
The end of their toil 
Is a bag of meal. 

As yellow as gold, 

'And as soft as silk. 

And two little girls 

Eating pudding-and-milk ! 



’.V 




* .- . 






i » 




j*^ 



• • 



■LI 


i' 


^ ■ 






ti 

r 1 . •• 


.;■ ' V'-JT* . 


.-v V' • :• 

' .• .. V. 






.t 




% 




= "j'-^- .'■• * 


** T 

I • I - • 


A 



/• 

* 




.I‘. 


» -« 


. ;/ ^ 

i-. •; 


t ■/ : 

.fc - ^ • 


\. 


fr. 


t 


i 


S,' 


>r 

\ 


Lv ^ 


I. 


^ ‘ yiWr^ 

- 



• r.:' . • 

“ • * ♦ i 

':.'.i-f?y>'™i- 



'rii-i^Ti.;. 

■ •i’« :?4,. , 


. i 


z' .. 


»•. ; 


/’ 


w >• “ 



•■ > .. 


• '* V I- • 




4 ' 



•:y ‘T 


I 


>' 

.< 




■■-.-■ -'.A 
■■■ : 

; ! • yj. “Jw 




' . - . 1# ^ » 

v V; ^ 

I i • ‘ ' 

' '■* : \' ' ' • . 


'■^v :■ '■-■•^.v 




V .• 




.f \ 


^ j ^ 

I ■ * > i ^ 

• i‘* « 


rVt' V'*>Vf w; 


» / 
• I 


». t 




:v > 






:^/v ■■ vIp;. ' N • V ■*-■ '- -■' ' ' 
" ■/>. .' •'■• 


' - ■ t ■ y’ . -' A W ^ ; 

' V-" 

• ^ , * • . •’ . 



». /.;■•' .jv-' 

‘ W/.* -.tv 


, •■<.• 


V V 

% 




» • 


; - r %i./ 

•.'b 






■ ••. 


c* 


. w 
• «• 




#« ' - -^^- •• 

.■•» ■• , 4 r »^> .' • , . . 

.1 . Jt t »■ . 


- . •» . 

-•■ J 






• A 4 .^ 


1 

. , ». * T Ji - , .e 


‘- i. ^■ 


•s )• 


•X 








